


With Friends Like These

by Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency)



Series: I Will Wait for You [10]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, Death Threats, Dom Phil Coulson, Electricity, M/M, Mind Control, Reference to past mutilation, Sub Clint Barton, Sub Grant Ward, Sub Kazimierz Kazimierczak, Sub Natasha Romanov, Torture, reference to past temporary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeableConsistency/pseuds/Paraprosdokia
Summary: The story of the day Clint recruited Natasha.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Grant Ward, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Kazimierz Kazimierczak, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: I Will Wait for You [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580395
Comments: 19
Kudos: 98





	With Friends Like These

Hawkeye’s good, she’ll give him that.

It’s a shame she has to kill him; but Kazi’s given him too much information to let him live.

Though Kazi may do it first, which is looking more and more likely. 

A body can only handle so much electricity. 

They’ve met before, she and Hawkeye, though he probably doesn’t remember. 

He’s gone legit now. 

What a waste. 

She had followed Hawkeye and his sub, letting them think they were following her.

She doesn’t know what they want; hence letting the Clown do his thing. 

Terrible human specimen.

Expert interrogator.

Probably the best she’s seen since herself. 

Which makes sense, the Red Room had her train him.

Kazi does prefer a more hands on approach.

Messy. 

And he enjoys his work too much. 

It’s why he’ll never be better than her.

Kazi has been looking for her too; Red Room’s claws still sunk deep into his flesh. He seems to like them there.

Unlike Natasha who has ripped them free.

It had hurt like hell. 

But then things of value do. 

Freedom most of all. 

She the master of her fate now, no one else will ever control her again.

Hawkeye’s submissive had buzzed around the Chicago warehouse until taking his perch, irritatingly causing Natasha to have to take the second best position.

These things happen. 

She Commands herself to get over it, and she does. 

Feelings are a distraction Natasha has never had time for.

Hawkeye screams again. 

Kazi has gone back to his genitals. 

She could have told him he’s wasting his time. 

~~~

Master screams again and Grant wants to scream with him. 

When Phil finds out he’s going to be so pissed. He just hopes Phil sticks to punishing Master instead of the both of them. He tends to be pretty fair and he knows deep down Grant doesn’t really have a choice. Not when it comes to Master. 

Master had said to trust him, and trusting him is so core to Grant’s identity he doesn’t know who he would be without it. 

He remembers the first time they met; Grant had tried to warn Master off of SHIELD’s cafeteria pizza, if you could call it that. More like cardboard covered in ketchup. 

No. 

That’s an insult to cardboard _and_ ketchup. 

It was absolutely disgusting. 

Not as disgusting as watching Master eat the entire slice, staring Grant the eye as if Grant had dared him to do it. 

He should have gone with the burrito like Grant had suggested. 

Who knows where they all would have ended up if he had. 

Grant has all his memories back and knows he didn’t feel this level of faith for Master before the Framework and he also knows people (mostly SHIELD’s psychiatrists) call his trust in Master pathological. 

None of that matters to Grant. 

He knows who he is; he has a better sense of self than 90% of SHEILD’s agents and he has no shame about his dependence on Master, no more than he does about his scenes with Peter. 

Though Master approves of the first and regrets the second, he only grudgingly accepts Grant’s relationship with Phil’s cousin. If he weren’t so intent on giving Grant his freedom, he would probably have Phil Order him to stop seeing the cruelly selfish dominant.

And if Master or Phil were capable of giving Grant what he needs, maybe he wouldn’t keep crawling back to Peter; but then he likes crawling back to him an awful lot. 

Master’s time in the Framework with Grant had changed Master. Made him more cautious, more protective. 

Nowhere near as protective as Phil, of course, but Phil could teach mother hens a thing or two. 

Grant’s time in the framework had changed Grant as well; not just his relationship with Master but his relationship with himself and both for the better, in Grant’s opinion. 

Which is why even though Master still pushes for Grant to allow him to use the Framework to try and undo his Order for Grant to trust him, Grant keeps refusing. 

A choice he’s regretting right about now. 

Master screams again and Grant has to force himself to place his finger back on the trigger guard. Master will never forgive him if he blows the Clown’s brains out before Master gets the information they need out of him. 

He just hopes the Widow is worth it. 

~~~

 _‘Fuck-oh-fuck-oh-FUCK that hurt,’_ Clint wishes the asshole would go back to electrocuting his nipples instead of his balls. 

But then since when does Clint ever get what he wants?

“AAAAAAAAAAAH,” Clint screams again, then flicks his sweat soaked hair out of his eyes.

“Come on, Kazi, you can do better than that. I thought you were trained by the Black Widow herself. What would she say if she saw you n—AAAAAAAAAAH!”

Fuck. Fuck him. 

Kazi has let out enough small details on Romanoff that Clint debates signaling Grant— Seriously, this hurts a lot. 

Not as much as that time Quinn castrated him slowly, slice by paper thin slice, but still. 

It fucking sucks. 

Kazimierz Kazimierczak, the Clown— and seriously, who _chooses_ the code name ‘the Clown’, _‘I mean, a clown, obviously,’—_ is pretty good, but Clint’s been tortured to death more times than he can count. 

Literally, as more and more memories came back to him of his time in the Framework, he tried keeping track and eventually gave up. It was like trying to count grains of sand at the beach or stars in the sky.

Kazi starts stroking his cock and Clint thumps his head against the back of the old electric chair he’s secured to by metal bands. 

If Kazi gets his way, Clint will be the nineteenth person killed by it. 

If he’s being honest, being electrocuted is in Clint’s top ten ways to die. 

Maybe top three?

Sure it hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s fast.

Not that Grant will let it get to that point. If Kazi gets near the switch he’s set up Grant will put a bullet in his brain. That, or if Clint passes out, or at Clint’s signal. 

Otherwise Grant’s supposed to watch and listen. Clint would spare him this if he could, he knows it’s hard on the other sub. 

Clint can’t help but moan; Kazi is better at handjobs that he is torture, and he no slouch at that. 

“My balls, fondle my balls,” he kind of wants to throw up a little, but like the torture, Clint’s forgotten more about being raped than Kazi will ever be able to attempt. 

Kazi does grab his balls, twisting them and _Christ_ Clint hopes he isn’t doing any permanent damage. He thinks he may have strained his throat on that one. Maybe he should pull back on the taunting. 

At least it’s not like he had Phil have discussed kids. 

Clint doesn’t know if Phil wants them. If it would be safe or healthy, especially with his fucked up life from birth until right this second. 

But Phil is good with kids. 

Great even. 

Clint’s seen the way he looks at Alison sometimes, or Franie and the boys. If Phil wants Clint to make a baby for him, Clint will. 

Erica’s volunteered often enough, and if Clint supplies the baby batter, as she calls it, they’re pretty much guaranteed to get little blond cherubs. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Clint bangs his head against the back of the chair as Kazi tortures his balls, hoping to distract himself from one kind of pain with another, “Yeah, like that, come on give it to me; did she show you this, does she know her way around cock like you do?”

It’d be nice if he’d lose his erection but his reaction to intense pain is too deeply ingrained. 

“Natalia is more likely to use satin sheets and sweet whispers. Would you like me to whisper to you, Hawkeye, tell you all the things I’m going to do to you?”

“Oh, God, please tell me you're gonna let me cum; my balls are so blue they hurt.”

Kazi snarls and punches Clint in the dick, “FUCK!” Clint has to pant a bit, but then he weezes, “You’re… such a… fucking… tease…”

Kazi backhands him and it’s like a love tap compared to everything that’s come before; he can take this kind of abuse for days without cracking. 

Clint swishes the blood around his mouth and spits it out to the side before licking his lips, “Come on baby, hit me like you mean it.”

Kazi starts punching his face, causing his already broken nose to rejoin the chorus in Clint’s symphony of pain, and shit, cracking his cheek bone. Clint feels around with his tongue and spits out another mouthful of blood. No broken teeth yet.

He should probably stop this before it happens. Phil likes his smile, and he’s already going to be angry enough as it is. Fuck, he’ll probably make Clint do lines until his hands cramp. 

For the first time Clint actually feels a little tremor of dread. 

He hates it when Phil’s mad at him. 

“So these satin sheets, are we talking the Waldorf or the Ritz?”

“Natalia always has favored the Ritz, not that you’ll ever see the inside of a hotel room again.”

“Oh, Kazi,” Clint shakes his pounding head, “Show’s over. Oh gross, you couldn’t have hit him in a way that didn’t get his brains on me?” This last part to Grant. 

“Sorry, Master!” Grant calls out, his voice echoing. 

“Just come get me out of this thing. I need a shower and to pass out for three days.”

“Coming, Master.”

And then Clint hears an, “Oof!” And his blood runs cold. 

“Grant? Grant!? GRANT!?” Clint starts struggling in the chair but he’s too well secured, “Fuck! Grant, sweetheart, talk to me. I’m sorry you had to see that, Grant! Oh, God, please Grant, answer me. THAT’S AN ORDER.”

He starts crying, “No, no-no-no you have to be okay. I promised you, promised to protect you. GRANT? Whoever you are come out and face me you coward! If you’ve hurt my boy I’ll teach you new definitions of pain. I am the world’s greatest expert on torture, and I swear to God Inwill show you everything I’ve learned. Grant!? _Please_. Please, don’t hurt him. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Natasha Romanoff drops out of the rafters and executes a graceful three point landing. 

“What did you do to him,” Clint snarls, struggling against the steel bands.

She smiles, a small secret smile, “Kazi gives you his best for an hour and still you crack jokes but someone even threatens your boy and you break?”

“Please, what did you do to him… is he,” Clint bows his head as he chokes back a sob, “Tell me he’s still alive,” then Clint starts struggling again, like he could rip her apart given half a chance. 

Probably because he would. 

“What is this boy to you?”

Clint sags in relief. 

_‘Oh, thank God._ _Thank_ God _.’_

She said, _‘Is.’_

Grant is still alive. 

Clint has never known terror like that.

He whispers, “Mine.”

“Your’s? Not SHIELDs?”

Good. She knows who he’s with. If not why.

“I know you’re only telling me you know this much because you think you’re going to kill us but please, hear us out first.”

She plays her fingers over the electric chair’s switch, her smile growing.

“You are very good, you know. Stupid. But good.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. But really, we can go back to your room at the Ritz—,” she scowls and he holds up his hands as much as he can in a placating gesture, “Sorry, sorry, guess that’s a sore spot. To be fair, he was a little distracted when he gave that gem up.”

“I will let you talk now but you should keep me entertained. I fidget when I’m bored,” she strokes the switch in one long sensual move and he feels his cock twitch. 

Ow. 

“And who’s going to take care of your boy then.”

He swallows back a retort; she has him by the short and curlies (and right now crispies, seriously, ouch) and they both know it. 

“Ms. Romanoff, let me tell you about the job offer of a lifetime.”

She raises an eyebrow.

He’s surprised her. 

This is going better than expected. 

“SHIELD wants to _recruit_ me?” Her disbelief evident. 

“We do. Imagine it, 401k, full medical and dental, a pension, and targets that deserve it.”

“And political overlords. No thank you, I’m done letting someone else call my shots.”

“You really think this was an approved operation,” he sort of gestures to himself and Kazi.

She tilts her head.

“I will want my freedom to come and go as I please. I decide what missions to take, and must be allowed to initiate my own.”

“Done.”

“And you have the power to make this happen?”

Clint hesitates, “Not exactly.”

She fondles the handle of the switch and his cock twitches again. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. 

Now _that_ is a surprise. 

She hadn’t heard Hawkeye had that kind of a death wish. 

She wonders who else knows. 

God damnit stupid brain. He hates that the thought of dying is still a turn on. 

“But I have the ear of the one who does,” he points his chin to his phone.

Bemused, she brings it to him. 

She may still have to kill him and his boy, but she’s starting to hope she won’t have to. 

“Call Master,” Clint says and it starts dialing, “Go ahead put it on speaker.”

“How’s Chicago?” he can hear Phil’s smile.

“Windy.”

“Get a chance to try the pizza?”

“The pizza here is an abomination and you know it.”

Phil sighs, Clint having given the all clear signals, “Hey, I’m not the barbarian that likes fruit on my pies.”

“So, I have someone here who would like to talk with you.”

“Miss. Romanoff? It’s an honor.”

“You have one hell of a recruitment pitch, Mr…”

“Coulson.”

“Mr. Coulson. I won’t have my hands tied. By anyone. I decide what missions to take and I will continue to freelance. Hawkeye says you can make that happen.”

“We’re having a conversation when you get home, Clint.”

“What? You wanted a meeting with the Black Widow, I got you a meeting with the Black Widow.”

“You sound like you're in pain, is everything okay?” Phil says, suddenly suspicious. 

“Peachy.”

“What happened?”

“Ummmm…”

“Pet,” Phil warns him and Natasha raises an eyebrow.

Apparently it hasn’t gotten out that he’s a submissive. Who knew that spies could keep a secret. The fact that he’s a sub had spread through the Trisk readily enough. 

Having a submissive call him Master in the field has probably helped him keep his cover intact. 

He hopes Grant doesn’t have a concussion. Concussions suck. 

Oof. He hopes _he_ doesn’t have a concussion. 

He’s kind of having trouble stringing his thoughts together.

“He was tortured.”

“By you?” Ahh, not so mild mannered as he sounds. 

“No. The Clown. He is dead now.”

“Good. _How bad is it, Pet, tell me the truth.”_

Natasha feels a strike of fear. 

A voice like that could make her Obey even with her countermeasures and she wonders if this is a mistake.

“A little light torture, I’m fine I swear,” he says dreamily.

She raises an eyebrow, this was _light_ torture? He’s under Compulsion so he must mean it. She’s seen men die from half of what he took; she’s more impressed than she was. 

And that he took it just to get this ‘meeting’ says a lot about him, and even more about the man on the other end of the line.

Even more amazing is the way Hawkeye’s eyes go from a little unfocused to clear and she gets the impression that he could have easily shaken it off and chose not to.

She feels a thread of fear. 

She can still feel the power of it Pulling at her and it wasn’t even directed her way. She’s not 100% certain she could lie right now if she tried. 

And that had only been a Whisper. 

No wonder Hawkeye has passed as a dom for so long. She’s never met a switch this powerful. 

No, wait. If he had a Voice he would have used it when she took down his sub.

She’s going to join SHIELD just to learn more about Hawkeye. He’s the most intriguing person she’s ever met. 

If she plays her cards right, she’ll get him to teach her his secret and she’ll never be caged again. 

“That was light?” She asks, incredulously.

“Tasha! Shhh!” 

He’s shushing her!? She could flip this switch in a second and _end_ him and he’s _shushing_ her. 

She thinks she might like him.

“It's a couple of bruises for you to kiss better that’s all.”

“I know your definition of ‘light’ Clint,” Coulson says, not even thrown by his submissive obviously lying to him so soon after his Order to be honest. 

There is an edge of disapproval and Hawkeye looks contrite. 

Curiouser and curiouser.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Judas!” He looks at her, deeply betrayed, “I thought we were friends, Tash.”

The most confusing thing is he means it. It’s like he decided to trust her and so he just _does_. 

Not only that, he expects her to trust him. As if it was a given. 

The most bizarre part is that she thinks she could. 

“I guess that means I’m sharpening your pencils.”

Natasha looks at Hawkeye in horror as his face completely drains of color behind it’s cuts and forming bruises. He looks devastated.

After what he’s been through her mind recoils at the thought of what kind of punishment with sharpened pencils could give him that look and she is beginning to have her doubts about this Coulson.

“You are going to torture him? After what he’s done for you?” She asks coldly.

“In a manner of speaking,” Hawkeye says miserably. 

“Lines. Miss. Romanoff. I’m making him write lines. How about, ‘I will not volunteer for torture.’ 100 times.”

“Awwww, Phil, no. Sometimes it’s necessary.”

“200.”

“I hate you.”

“Do I have to make it 3?”

Hawkeye sighs, “No, Master.”

“Good boy,” he says and Hawkeye preens, bouncing back like a rubber ball.

She definitely likes him.

She’s about to Order herself not to but something about him makes her change her mind. 

She can always do it later. 

“You’re punishing him with _lines_?” 

“I always use the most effective means at my disposal to get the job done. Speaking of, I’ve got the ‘jet refueling; it will be waiting for you. I tell you what, Pet, finish your lines before you get home and I’ll take all three of you out for ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” She mouths at Hawkeye skeptically. He gives her a thumbs up and a bloodstained smile past his split lip and broken nose.

She doesn’t think ice cream is a euphemism.

She might be in the twilight zone.

“Where is Grant, by the way?”

“Yeaaaaah, about that,” Hawkeye says.

“I will let you up and we can go to him. He’ll be fine, it was a little bump on the head.”

“A little bump like light torture?” Coulson asks in a dangerous tone that sets off all her warning bells; she vows to only lie to this man when absolutely necessary. 

“I promise, Mr. Coulson, I used minimal force.”

“I want this to be the last time you render one of my boys unconscious. Understood?

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl; I’ll see you all in a couple hours,” he hangs up. 

She feels a moment of shock. She can’t believe that just came out of her mouth. Like it was automatic. 

Even worse she had _liked_ it when Coulson had called her a good girl. 

She hasn’t been a good girl for a very long time; she thought the words had lost all meaning for her. 

No.

No, she is the Black Widow, she is predator not prey. No cage can hold her. She will use SHIELD to get what she wants and then she is in the wind.

“Come on, Tash; get me out of this so then we can get Grant and we can all go home.”

Home. 

She’s never had a home before. 

This will be interesting. 


End file.
